


What Reward

by Rebel_Atar



Category: Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7339507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Atar/pseuds/Rebel_Atar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are somethings even Christ did not foresee</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Reward

It hurt, everything hurt, and he wasn’t even at the end of it yet. He still had to be brought before Pilate. What else would they do to him. He kept trying to tell himself that it would be worth it at the end. All would be forgiven. All for the greater good. Yet he couldn’t help but think on the pain this had caused his friends. Couldn’t help but think about Judas. How they had clung to each other even as he was betrayed. How he had pushed Judas to that point. It had to happen. It had to be someone. It had to be Judas.

 

He hoped the other’s would treat him kindly, wouldn’t shun or hate him for what he had done. Judas had done what was necessary. Once it was all over they would understand. He only hoped they wouldn’t abandon Judas before then.

 

There was noise from the other cells, everyone shouting. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but something was happening on the hill overlooking the prison. Jesus rose and tried to look out of the barred window of his cell. Whatever it is he might be able to see it from here. The window was high, designed to let light in not to let the prisoners look out, he had to stand on his toes to reach it.

 

The hill wasn’t too far really, just outside the high fence and guard towers that surrounded the prison. There was a huge tree there, despite the time of year it had not born leaves and stood barren as if it was still winter. There was a figure under the tree, standing on a crate or something. He pulled himself up by the bars a little so he could see more clearly.

 

Judas.

 

What was he doing. Why was he there. Jesus stared out in confusion and then in horror as Judas began to tie his scarf to the tree branch. 

 

No.

 

No, no, please no.

 

He shouted at him. Screamed out of the barred window until lungs gave out but it made no difference. Judas couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t see him out of all the cell windows his would look no different. Jesus took gasping breaths until he could yell again. He had to stop him. He couldn’t let Judas do this it wasn’t right, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Judas don’t do this. Judas stop. Please.

 

It made no difference. The guards were shouting at him to keep quiet. Threatening him through the cell door but he could barely hear them. Judas had kicked the crate away and was holding onto the branch with just his arms. Tears streamed down Jesus’ face. He couldn’t stop him, he was powerless, useless. 

 

Judas let go and all he could hear was silence. He could hear the guards outside his cell, or the other prisoners. He couldn’t hear anything. It was like the world had stopped. Judas didn’t even struggle. When his arms had let go so had the rest of him. There had been nothing left. Nothing in him that could fight anymore.

 

Jesus arms gave out and he slumped to the floor of his cell. He was shaking head to foot and the tears just kept coming. It felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Like all that was there now was a black hole of pain and nothingness sucking every ounce of fire out of him, every last remaining bit of hope, of faith. 

 

He did not think. He could not fathom this outcome. Judas, his Judas. Dead. “Dead because of the betrayal I asked of him. No,” He looked up, “No that  _ you _ asked of him.” His father’s will. Had this outcome been fated too. Why had it been kept from him. No, he knew why, because he would never had gone through with this if he had known.

 

“You let him do this. You let me lead him to this. How could you?” He sobbed, “ _ How could you! _ ” He didn’t care if he was shouting. He didn’t care who heard him, or if it angered the guards further. He didn’t care about anything, not anymore.

 

“How could you let him. Is this his reward for the work you required of him. Is this what awaits all who do your bidding. Is this what awaits me?” Jesus pulled his knees to his chest and lay his head atop them, curled into the corner of his cell.

 

“So be it, then.” At least Judas would not be alone.

 

He barely put up any resistance at the so called trial. He didn’t have it in him anymore. They still called him king. Did not understand that he had never called himself that, that’s what they had named him and continued to name him. He didn’t want this. Not like this. Did nobody understand. They flogged him, crowned him with barbed wire. They strung him up and left him to wither and bleed.

 

He died. To save them all, to show them what their corruptions had led to. He had been promised that this would not be his final end, but he was no longer sure how much he trusted those promises.

  
  


Days passed and eventually he awoke again. The wounds were still there, but they no longer hurt. They were damp with blood but did not seem to actively bleed. His friends reacted with shock, they doubted at first but soon the doubt ebbed away and they were left with the reality that he was still here, at least for a little while longer. They crowded Jesus, did they never learn. He pushed them back, tried to calm them, tried to let himself be heard over the din.

 

He had to know, was desperate to know. It was all he had thought about since waking but he went through the motions required of him first. Now the thoughts were all consuming. He woke and did Judas wake too. He needed to know. Needed to know that he wasn’t dead, needed to know that he hadn’t killed him.

 

“Where is Judas?” The noise died down near instantly. The twelve would not look at him, would not meet his gaze. “Where is he?!” 

 

“He is dead.” Mary spoke up but even she dared not look him in the eye. “He is dead, Jesus.”

 

The small amount of hope he’d allowed himself died, his heart broke all over again. Was there no reprieve for Judas, no reward, no absolution at least.

 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, forcing down his guilt, the sorrow. “Yes. I know. But where is he?”

 

Mary hid behind her braids. He looked at the others, taking in their shared glances.

 

“You just left him?” He asked breathlessly, voice breaking, “You didn’t even cut him down?” He looked at each of them in turn but none could hold his gaze, none could stand it.

 

Eventually Peter spoke up. “You were going to be executed we had other things on our minds.”

 

“It’s been  _ days _ Peter.”

 

“He betrayed you.”

 

“I loved him!” The tears he’d been trying to keep back fell now, there was no stopping them. How could they. They were his friends, Judas’ friends. He trusted them to understand, but they hadn’t and now they would know the truth of it. All of it.

 

“I loved him. I pushed him away because I knew, I  _ knew _ , what was needed, what would be asked of him. I knew what was necessary. I could not ask it of anyone else. I...I loved him. I never told him. I never let myself think on it because I knew what was coming. But I didn’t know _ this _ .”

 

He raced off, the 12 followed. He couldn’t just leave Judas. Couldn’t bear it. When he reached the tree he fell to his knees, utterly broken by the sight. He clasped one hand over his mouth, unable to tear his eyes from Judas, tears streaming down his face. 

 

“Cut him down.” His voice shook.

 

“Jesus-”

 

“Cut. Him.  _ Down! _ ” He was near hysteric in his grief. The one he held dearest was gone, and none but him had even cared it seemed. It was Simon who stepped forward, scowling at the people he called friends. He was gentle with Judas, as gentle as he could be at least. He cradled the body as he cut it down, laid Judas out on the grass beneath.

 

“If I had kept you close would you still live Judas. If I had told you.” Jesus crawled forward, hands touching all of Judas that he dared, making sure it was no trick of his father’s. Trying to come to terms with the reality before him.

 

“If I had told you would you have stayed. Just for me. Just so I could see you one last time. Would you have lived for me.” He let out a bark of laughter, bitter and mirthless.

 

“It’s a silly thought really. Because you already did, didn’t you. You already did live for me. That’s why this hurt you so much. Its why you clung to me in the garden, not wanting to let go even after what you did, what I said to you. Even as you followed my father’s will.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Said Mary, “You...you knew?”

 

“Yes. The same way I knew Peter would deny me. I knew Judas would betray me. Someone had to, it was the only way.”

 

“Why Judas?”

 

“Because even when he was my right hand man he was an outsider. You all argued with him and pushed him away. Only Simon didn’t, but I don’t think Simon has it in him to be like that. He was the only one they would have believed.”

 

He cried, fully sobbing, shaking, running his hands through Judas’ dreads, smoothing them off his face. 

 

“I was too scared to let you in. Scared that I wouldn’t be able to let you go. And I watched you die because of it. Because you couldn’t bear to watch  _ me _ die and think it was your fault.”

 

“You watched him?” Asked Peter.

 

“From my cell….I could see him through the window bars. I called out to him but he couldn’t hear me. I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t  _ save _ him.”

 

What kind of messiah was he really, that he couldn’t save the one he cared most about in all the world. He had hoped that after all of this, if there had been an after as he had been promised, that he would tell Judas the truth about what was asked of him, and about how he felt. He had hoped that for the time he had left they could have been together.

 

“I’m sorry Judas. I’m so sorry.”

 

He allowed himself a few more minutes to weep before pressing a kiss to Judas brow. A sign of his betrayal, the same as Judas had given him, then stood shakily. 

 

“He will have a proper burial. I don’t care what his death dictates. He deserved better than this, it’s the least I can do for him.”

 

The twelve nodded, Mary left and returned with a sheet and they wrapped Judas in this to carry him away so that his body could be tended to as Jesus had asked.

 

Simon was the only one who dared approach Christ in his grief. He embraced him, and offered him all the comfort he had to give. Jesus sank into Simon for a moment, grateful, before allowing his friend to help him back to the house. Simon at least had been Judas’ friend and shared in his grief. Jesus could not stand to be alone right now and would not wish it on Simon either. The few days he had left would be empty.


End file.
